


Blood Bonds

by bad_pheasants



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Conlanging, Families of Choice, Gen, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Kryptonian Language, Speculative, WB: The House of Ze (Supergirl TV 2015) - Freeform, Worldbuilding, discussions of canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 10:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18119417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad_pheasants/pseuds/bad_pheasants
Summary: Lie detector crystals, conversations about Astra, and that one time Kara adopted Alex after the end of Season 3.





	Blood Bonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alsike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/gifts).



> See end notes for list of Kryptonian words used in this fic.

“Agent Danvers.” 

Alura’s voice has Alex turning around in the deserted DEO hallway. Sunset slants sharply through the one-way windows, reaching all the way into the corridor, orangey light hitting the dust that’s still thick in the air after the earthquake caused by the terraforming. 

It’s over. It’s _not_ over, yet; but the threat of the Worldkillers is gone, and enough triage has been done that Alex’s team—her DEO team, but also Kara, the Legion, J’onn, wrung out from the fight and their losses—can finally take a breath and let fresh hands take over. 

Alura, too; but instead of resting, she’s tracked Alex down in a relatively secluded area that no one’s really in, being neither severely damaged nor containing anything of particular importance. 

Alura looks… well, Alura never looks “nervous”. But her hands pluck at the front of her robes—like Kara’s hands at her skirt or cape, Alex thinks, but slower. But there’s an uncertainty in the lines of her face, a searchingness to her gaze, that hasn’t come to the surface so far. 

Maybe the microexpressions are so pronounced to Alex because she’s spent the last five years working with a hologram of that face—beautifully rendered, but a polite mask nonetheless. 

The lines of living-Alura’s face are harder, too—testament to the life she’s led since she put a piece of herself in a sunstone and gave it to Kara. 

But maybe the microexpressions are so pronounced because every time Alex looks at her, she thinks she’s seeing a ghost. Maybe the mannerisms, the small cues—maybe those are things a part of Alex latches onto, or can’t help but see. Her heart stutters just a little bit, because somewhere, in the back of her brain, she sees that face, real and alive, and goes _That’s impossible_. Hope and terror going off at the same time. 

Maybe Alex is just haunted. 

Alex swallows, mouth dry. “Alex, please.” She manages, mostly out of habit. 

Alura relaxes minutely at that. “Alex.” Something that’s almost a smile crosses her face. “May I speak with you?” 

Well, Alex was right on that count. “Sure.” She looks around the deserted hallway, like there’s any chance of anyone just casually walking through here beyond the regular walkaround. 

That’s why _Alex_ is here right now. She can’t be in the buzz of the recovery effort, or the rush of caring for exhausted and injured combatants. Alex can’t turn off her response; she sees a wound, sees a limp, dehydration, the beginnings of a solar flare—and she’s throwing superhero-grade electrolyte replacement paks at 31st-century heroes. She’s stitching up her team. She’s making sure they eat. She doesn’t go home before all her people are safe. It’s too easy to slip into, and never come out. And that’s what she has to do. That’s what she’s preparing for. 

Not that being here is doing much for that impulse, either; pacing the hallways, looking at the desks, piled haphazardly with things that, she thinks, hadn’t been put away properly since before the Daxamite invasion. She finds herself making mental notes to get a crew together to work on it—

And then she has to shake herself out of it. She’s going to—to go to J’onn, and tell him she can’t stay, she had it all planned out, she was going to resign once she knew this place was _safe_ , stay on until her team was stable enough for her to leave, but—

But all she can do is look around and see loose ends. Things that will have to go undone. Taking care of this place, these people, is like second nature to her. 

That’s the truth of it, part of her says. Not some fear that a someday-child won’t be _safe_. She knows she’ll never put a family first, give them the attention they deserve, if she’s fighting for something larger. Like that saying, _A man cannot have two masters_ —she can fight for them, or she can fight for the world, but she knows these hallways inside and out, the structure of this organization. She feels alive here, part of a greater body, a greater purpose, in a way that’s—that’s—

Addictive. 

Alex swallows the sick churning in her stomach, the ache. _Addictive_. She’d never want to inflict a parent like her DEO-obsessed self on a family, on a wife, a child—a parent who’s never there when they’re needed, an absent father, always the lingering question mark of _will today be the day they don’t come home_ , _will today be the day that someone follows_ Alex _home_ —

“Where’d you have in mind?” Alex forces out, forces herself back to discipline. She’s not out yet. _Yet_. “I don’t think we’ll be interrupted here.” 

Alura nods, an odd understanding on her face, like she can sense Alex’s conflict and that it has nothing to do with her. “I’ll try to be brief.” She says. “I know you probably already got the impression, but—Kara spoke to me about you at… some length.” Alura’s lips twist wryly, maybe a little apologetically. Alex lets out a startled puff of a laugh, feeling her cheeks heat unexpectedly, because of course Kara did. “I can’t express my gratitude to you and your family enough.” Her voice goes soft, that composure thinning, wavering. 

Alex, unexpectedly, feels a spike of protective anger, abruptly reminded that all this time, all the time Kara was mourning her home and her family, was learning about the things they did, the crimes they committed—Alura was alive. Alura was alive, and hadn’t tried to reach out to her. 

Alura might not think much of what she’d done in her life, but she’d been Kara’s _hero_. 

Alex tamps down on her emotions. She can hear Alura out before she chews her out. 

“Like I said before—“ Alex comes up short of saying Alura’s name. She’s not sure if she should say Alura’s name, and she doesn’t know her title, exactly. 

“Alura.” Alura supplies. 

“Alura.” Alex has the briefest sensation of being caught and the thought _quicksand_ flashes through her mind. “She saved us.” She repeats the line she fed Alura when Alura first arrived on Earth. 

It’s such a cliched thing to say. 

Exasperatingly, Alura seems to sense that, too, and steps closer, her head tilting in a way that makes Alex’s chest want to explode, that has her seeing shadows, ghosts. She’s seen that head tilt, that quiet, almost amused study, on two other faces in her entire life. 

_You’re brave, for a human._

“This is on Kara’s behalf,” Alura says, “Because what she asks will require you to come before the Council on Argo City, and they may want to question you. 

“But I would think that the arrival of someone like Kara would put an immense pressure on any but the most well-connected or completely disconnected families. 

Alura’s tone is knowing, and it makes Alex want to scream, just a little, because even though there’s no going back now, Alex remembers well when a younger version of herself thought that Kara literally ruined her life, para-dropping into it when Clark decided he didn’t want to deal with a Kryptonian teenager who, Alex learned very quickly, had strong opinions and ideas of her own about why she was on Earth. About everything on Earth, including Alex. 

Alex can’t ever recall a moment where she ever distinctly _stopped_ thinking that, either. There were moments when they realized how much things _had_ changed; the first time Kara took her out flying, or the first time they really teamed up, after Kenny’s death. But those were just moments, and after the fact. More likely, Alex thinks, at some point, it just became moot to be angry over it all. 

And that left room for other changes. Not overnight, but… 

“It did.” Alex says, honestly. She doesn’t owe Alura any more than this. 

“And yet you seem very close.” 

Alex shrugs. She wishes Kara were here. Apart from the fact that apparently Kara wants to ask her to do something for her, Kara has always been the one with a way with words. 

_We didn’t really have a choice_ sounds like she resents it, and maybe she did, once, but she doesn’t anymore. She can’t. And even if she did, the last thing she wants to do is give Alura ammo to manipulate Kara with. Even on bad days, a Kara she’s mad at is still someone she trusts more than a friendly, nosy relative. 

“It’s complicated, Ma’am.” Alex falls back on the title out of habit, and winces internally. “I don’t regret it, though.” 

Alura nods. She looks like she wants to ask Alex more questions, but wisely, she opts not to. 

“Thank you.” Alura says instead. “The reason I ask is—well, Kara wanted to ask you herself, but—she wants you to join the House of El.” 

Alex doesn’t quite process that all at once. When a critical mass of the meaning has filtered through— “ _What?_ ” 

“She wants to… adopt you, I believe is the term in your language? As your family adopted her here?” 

Alex is so blindsided that she stammers out some technical nonsense while she tries to wrap her mind around the implications of what Alura just said. “We’re—well—Kara doesn’t have the paperwork on Earth, so she was never formally—“ She stops and blinks, looking at Alura for the first time since this all came out. “She wants to _adopt_ me?” 

“I get the impression that that may mean something different than what it does on Krypton. This would be a Kryptonian designation only, and the two systems are quite different. But insofar as any child of the House of El has a stake in its success or failure, or benefits from its history and privilege—yes. You could wear our coat of arms, and should anything happen to myself and Kara and Kara—you would inherit what possessions we have. Though I have to admit, there’s little enough left.” 

It’s a far more complicated statement than is necessary, but that’s not what Alex is struggling with. She had no idea Kara wanted— “I— I don’t know what to say, I— That’s amazing. Thank you.” 

Alura’s wry smile returns. “Thank Kara. I had already agreed before coming here, but after meeting you, I agree even more with her assessment. You would be an asset. And after everything you’ve given to keep Kara safe and healthy—I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to repay that. But this will ensure that no matter what, you will always have the aid of the House of El, should you need it.” 

For a moment, Alex is soaring, all thoughts about ghosts or suspicion of manipulation forgotten. This is beyond her wildest dreams, beyond anything she could’ve imagined— 

And then it crashes down on her exactly why this can’t work. Not just because of how this complicates her already-tenuous imaginary someday-family, but because— 

She’s already disqualified. 

“Kara told me,” Alura says quietly, “About my sister. What happened to her.” 

Alex laughs and it hurts in her throat like laughing around broken glass. “Did she tell you how it happened? That I—“ 

“Killed her? Yes.” 

“I did worse than that.” Alex’s voice is dark. “Astra was the only living family that wanted her, as far as we knew.” The barb registers on Alura’s face, but the momentary flinch is a hollow victory. 

And Alura seems to recover far too quickly. “You did what was necessary to protect your family.” Her voice is surprisingly raw. “What you did—if it’s anyone’s fault that this happened, it’s mine. I’m the one who didn’t take action the way she wanted us to, the way we should have. I’m the one who put her in prison, knowing she’d die on Krypton with the rest of us out of sheer stubbornness if I didn’t _do something_. It should never have come to that moment in the first place.” Alura’s eyes glitter. Something raw crosses her face as she looks at Alex, and it takes all of Alex’s remaining discipline not to look away. “I also know that she would’ve liked you. 

“Kara—she didn’t know what to make of it. But I did. I could hear it in the way Kara talked about the two of you, and I thought—“ She breaks off and shakes her head, bitter smile fixed on her lips. “I thought I knew her, once, and then it turned out I didn’t. But I heard what Kara said and I thought—she would’ve liked you. Like you would’ve been someone she could like. I wanted to know. 

“Astra knew the choices she made. And she never would’ve forgiven me for saving her life above our peoples’, if she lived. And that was the choice I made, to try to save her before the rest of our planet.” Alura’s eyes are blazing—almost literally. The faint glow in them stops the breath in Alex’s throat. She doesn’t have to imagine Astra looking at her like that—not the imperious, cynical survivor Alex met, but a General, a ranking officer. The two of them have the same magnificence, Alex thinks. Alura just wears hers on the inside of her skin, most of the time. “I’ve seen all I need to see.” 

Alex doesn’t know what Alura has seen. The only thing she’s seen, as far as Alex is concerned, is Alex fighting to survive. Alex wasn’t really even aware she was being watched. Not when Alura looked at Kara with that look full of regret, trying to glean anything about the years she missed, that made Kara into the woman she is. 

“I wanted to offer you something—in addition to what Kara wants to ask you. You don’t have to accept, and regardless of your decision, it shouldn’t prevent you from accepting Kara’s offer if you want to, although it may make the process somewhat more complicated. 

“But you’re worth it, Alex. Whatever your decision is, you will have my support, and the support of the House of El.” 

Alex feels dizzy. 

She’s going to have to say no. She doesn’t even know what Alura’s offer is, but she just—she _knows_ it. In her bones. 

She’s trying to build the life she wants. She’s not sure what she wants, and the harder she looks, the fuzzier it all seems, and the more it falls apart. 

That’s the whole problem: She doesn’t know, she can’t know, and she can’t just try it for a weekend and then put it down if she decides it’s not for her, or put it down when the next alien invasion happens. And she thinks she wants it, but this world, this place that’s so dangerous, so _antithetical_ to the kind of thing she wants—it comes as naturally as breathing to her. 

It’s a paradox. Everything she is is so shaped by the Kryptonian girl who just appeared in her life when Alex was fourteen; her connection to life on other worlds, to aliens on this planet, the loss of her father—everything changed, because of Kara, _for_ Kara. It made her what she is: A field agent, a _covert_ agent, a fighter, a biomedical engineer specializing in xenotechnology—things she’s _proud_ of. Things she’d liked to think, before she met him again, that her dad would’ve been proud of. She’s like no one else she can think of. 

But it makes her so ridiculously unfit for “normal” things, the things people want to escape—things that sometimes, she still aches for. For a day when the fear of being found out isn’t burned into her bones. She never wondered, before, what she would’ve been like if she hadn’t had to go to war for Kara when she was a teenager. This year, fifteen years later… she did. 

Sentimentality like this is exactly what gets people in her line of work killed, she knows. If she really wants to know, then she’d better get out while she can. 

If she doesn’t _try_ , she won’t ever know if this isn’t just some teenage pipe dream that she never got to have while she was busy trying to survive. 

There’s _blood_ —on her hands, in her past. She can’t clean it off, but she can _choose_. She _wants_ to choose. And if there’s a choice to be made, and a gravity to pull against, wouldn’t that mean pulling against the direction she’s been pulled in all her life? Shouldn’t it be the opposite of the easy one? 

She should say no. She shouldn’t even hear it out. She had a plan; she was going to go find J’onn, and tell him she was resigning, and—

“Okay,” She hears herself say. “What is it?” 

//

Nothing else goes according to plan, either. Instead of accepting her resignation, J’onn promotes her, and resigns instead. 

Alex wants to protest. All the good he’s done, all the change he’s made, inside an organization that by all rights should be aligned with factions like CADMUS and Lillian Luthor. 

And Alex, she’s just… herself. _Human_. She looks at herself when she started at the DEO: Someone lost in her pain, full of fear and mistrust. Someone with a chip on her shoulder, angry at the world for everything that she lost, everything that was denied her. Sure, she’s better now—but it wasn’t because of herself. It’s because of people like J’onn, and Kara. She’s great at being a cog in the wheel—but she could never do what J’onn does, truly make change. 

She walked into that room small, intending to be no one when she left. 

But when she leaves, the whole building fits around her like a glove, the weight of the pillars, the echo of the HVAC, the way the building breathes—

Alex can argue with J’onn about whether he’s right to put this much trust in her until she’s blue in the face. She’ll probably argue with him about it the day he finalizes his resignation, and the day her promotion goes through. But at the same time, maybe on an animal level— 

God, it _fits_. 

//

Kara swoops towards Alex (metaphorically; Alex can tell she has something on her mind—like, say, asking Alex to join her family) when Alex trudges in the door to Kara’s apartment that night. Normally, maybe, she’d go home to be alone, and think about everything, but—She doesn’t want to be. Not in the aftermath of everything. Not when Kara—when she almost lost Kara for an indeterminate amount of time on Argo City. 

Kara falters mid-swoop, maybe getting a glimpse of the sheer tiredness radiating off Alex. At least, Alex assumes she’s radiating it. She certainly feels it. 

Kara’s facial expression goes on a journey from “determined” to “concerned entreaty” that would have Alex laughing if she weren’t so damn tired. “Hey! Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” Alex isn’t “okay”, but really, there isn’t a word for what she feels right now. 

Kara’s brows furrow immediately, and Alex knows she’s been made. 

“I’ve had… a day.” 

Kara’s frown eases immediately. She holds out her arms with a grin. “Come. There’s pizza.” 

Alex sighs. Now that she says it, the smell of grease floods the room beautifully. And there’s _wine_. “I love you.” 

“Love you too. Now eat. You look like you haven’t eaten all day.” 

A few bites of pizza and Alex has enough energy to be anxious about her conversation with Alura. She swallows her mouthful of cheese and pepperoni and plunges ahead before she can chicken out. 

“So, uh, don’t be mad.” 

The frown reappears on Kara’s forehead. 

“But your mom talked to me.” 

Kara looks honestly worried now. 

“She told me—well, she told me about something else, but to do that, she had to tell me that you were going to ask about—“ She swallows. “—Adopting me?” 

As an adult, she has to admit, that sounds weird even to her. She’s not a stray. 

Kara looks a little bit crestfallen. She’d really been hoping to surprise Alex, Alex surmises. “I knew I should’ve asked sooner.” 

“Hey.” Alex slaps Kara’s thigh with the back of her hand. “You still haven’t _asked_ me. Like I said, she was asking about something else. But she needed to put it in, I don’t know, context. Also, we’ve been cleaning up National City for the last week, not counting the Main Event itself. You’ve been a little busy.” 

Kara frowns, nose wrinkling slightly, clearly trying to figure out what Alura asked about. 

“So come on. Woo me.” 

Kara shoots her an exasperated look. Alex takes another bite and grins back at Kara with a mouthful of cheese. 

Kara looks down and fidgets with her nails. “It’s… it’s kind of a big deal.” 

“How kind of a big deal?” Alex lets her voice soften. 

“I mean… I’ve really wanted to… to acknowledge who you are to me. That you’re my family.” 

“I am your family.” 

“I mean—“ Kara sighs. “I mean everything about my life here on Earth has been so… one-sided. _You_ took me in, _you_ kept me safe, _you_ are the reason I became who I am.” 

“You were twelve, Kara,” This is easy. Alex was freaking out about this earlier. But this? This conversation? This is easy. As easy as the way the DEO sits on her shoulders. “We weren’t exactly expecting you to provide goods and services.” 

Kara’s fondly exasperated smile says that Alex is on the mark. “I never got to give anything back, it felt like. You took such a risk with me, and I—I never got to say “me, too”. I never got to say I felt the same way. I mean, I did, but…” 

“There’s no expectation that you’d ever pay us back somehow, Kara.” Alex says softly, one hand resting on Kara’s folded-up knee. “And I know my mom would be a little upset if she thought that that’s the impression you’d gotten.” 

“I didn’t.” Kara says immediately. “I just…” She slouches back for a moment, biting her lip. “You know, my family wasn’t the most powerful family on Krypton. But we were well-off.” 

“I knew it. Rich kid.” Alex deadpans. 

Kara glares at her. “Watch it before I boil the cheese off your pizza.” 

Alex gapes, mock-offended. “You’re threatening my _pizza_?” 

Kara continues without acknowledging Alex’s gaping shock. “It was just frustrating, all the times I watched you and Eliza and Jeremiah struggle, and knowing if I had even a fraction of the resources I had available to me on Krypton… I could’ve given something to your family, too. Not just taken.” 

“Hey.” Alex scoots closer, sensing an imminent guilt implosion. “I promise you, Kara, that’s not how it was.” 

Amazing. After the conversation she just had with Alura, all the memories of feeling like Kara _stole_ something from her, a life she could’ve had—and she’s right here, reassuring Kara that that’s not “how it was”. 

Kara looks at her, eyes full of some awful truth that Alex has worked so hard to repress. “Then why does it feel so unfair?” 

“Because it isn’t fair.” Alex says, wrapping her arm around Kara’s shoulders. “Losing your planet, your family, becoming a refugee—having to come live with a bunch of boring human losers and hide your abilities.” Kara snorts softly. “None of what happened was _fair_.” She cranes her neck slightly to look at Kara. “That doesn’t mean you’re not the most incredible thing that ever happened to us.” 

Kara gives her a soft smile that’s only a little bit sad. 

“It’s really important to you, huh?” Alex can see that, but she wants to put it out there. 

Kara’s eyes look so deep into hers. “I want it to be important to you, too. If it’s not… If you don’t want it, you don’t have to.” 

There it is again. Alex aches, and she can’t quite put her finger on why. 

“Why, though? I mean—you don’t _have_ to do this for me. I _know_ who I am to you without this step.” Kara nods in what seems to be either agreement or comprehension. “So what gives?” 

Kara speaks slowly and uncertainly at first, looking down. “Because you _are_ my sister. And I want all of them to know that. I went to Earth and _you_ became my sister.” She’s looking up now, gaining momentum, fierceness overcoming her self-consciousness. “You protected me and you fought for me and you taught me and you _deserve_ to be honored for that. I would put your name up in the sky if I could.” 

Alex blushes a little at that, not sure if she should be uncomfortable or embarrassed, and not succeeding at being definitively either. 

“And if I can give you this, I can say that whenever you or your family needs anything, the House of El will be there for you. You know Clark and I will always—but the House of El is more than just us. It’s history and it’s tradition and it’s _power_. It’s my ancestors and everything they built and fought for. It’s the confluence of my mother’s House and its history, too. I want you to have that, not because I think I owe it to you, but because… I want to give it to you. And—to your family. When you finally get to have one. 

“You’re my _home_ , Alex. You think I wouldn’t put everything I have into that? I just found out I have more than I thought I’d ever have again. I want to share it with you.” 

Alex’s eyes are stinging and her throat is tight. “Oh,” she manages. 

Kara’s biting her lip. “Yeah.” 

Alex doesn’t have words for the immense relief that washes over her. She gets to keep it. All of it. She was preparing—she spent the last three months preparing to have to let all of it go, every bit of it. That she was going to have to treat the DEO, her closeness with Kara… as something that was holding her back. Today has been like a series of sledgehammer blows to that idea, and this is the one that makes it all make sense, what J’onn has been trying to tell her, and Kara, this whole time. They want to _help_ her. 

Kara wants to move her _forward_. 

“I, um,” Alex says, looking at their legs side-by-side. “Yes.” Kara startles beside her, everything about her brightening immediately. “Yeah, I—I want that, too.” 

“You do?” Kara’s smile is fragile and firms over Alex’s resolve. 

“Yeah.” She squeezes Kara close, and Kara squeezes back, carefully, settling back in against Alex’s side. 

After a moment, Kara’s voice comes, just a little bite to it: “Also, I kinda want them to know that they all suck compared to you.” 

Alex, mid-sip of wine, snorts some of it out her nose in shock. “What?” Oh, god, it burns. 

“I’m serious. You should’ve seen them, when they said they wouldn’t help. Before they sent us back empty-handed. They’re all up there, having lost their whole damn _world_ , and your people are on the verge of losing _yours_ , to some of _their_ own people? Just—“ Kara makes an _Ugh_ sound. Then, quietly, “They never could’ve done what you and your family did. Take me in. Care for someone who wasn’t theirs to begin with.” 

“So… you wanna show ‘em up? With me?” 

Kara snorts with laughter and knocks her thigh against Alex’s. “Shut up.” After a beat. “But yeah. Yes. I do.” 

“I think we can definitely arrange that.” 

//

Kara is silent for a long time after Alex tells her what Alura offered to do. She kind of pulls back into herself, and Alex is left wondering if what Alura suggested, no matter how attractive part of it is to Alex, is worth the expression she sees on Kara’s face right now. 

Alex tries not to flounder while she’s watching Kara for a reaction; some kind of hint as to what meanings there might be in what Alura told her. Alex has to admit she didn’t fully understand everything Alura tried to explain. It sounded complex, legally; over-complicated, even. The gist that she got was: Alura wanted to invoke a sort of weregild law that would allow Alex to be legally pardoned for killing Astra. 

The price was a sort of exchange: Alex would have to take Astra’s place as a scion of the House of Inzhe—duties and ranks not included. Since Alura was older, and higher-ranked, she _could_ fulfill the role of _dzarakhvao_ , the Head of the House of Inzhe—but she also currently fulfills that role for the House of El, since Zor-El’s death. And Alura, apparently, doesn’t see Kara coming to Argo City to live there, either. 

Alex isn’t sure how to take that. Kara seemed so eager to go, and Alex had already resigned herself to Kara going back to Argo City after the battle with Reign. The idea of her coming back… doesn’t seem real. 

“Kara?” Alex asks after a silence of what feels like hours; glancing briefly at her watch when it flashes as she twists her hands together nervously, it’s more like thirty seconds. 

Kara looks at her. There’s something shuttered in her gaze. Her face is a shadow of that peppy, always-ready exterior that she has; pleasant, and alert, but also somehow like the last several minutes of whatever unpleasant thing you were talking about didn’t exist. And, under the pleasantness, a frame of steel, steamrollering right over your scheming, or snark, or whatever it was she didn’t want to acknowledge existed, and it just… bounced off that exterior. Sometimes, it was like a dare, a stubbornly bright smile with murder in her eyes. Others, it’s more subtle, like right now. 

It feels just as impervious as her million-watt “kill ‘em with kindness” smile. 

“Look, I’m not entirely sure what your mom is planning on doing. At least, legally. I’m not sure if it’s… offensive, or appropriate… If something about this is off, just tell me, and I won’t do it.” 

Kara looks down at her lap, cracks showing in her facade. She’s still silent. Alex waits. 

“Are you— Are you sure?” Kara asks finally. Alex doesn’t think she understands exactly what this means—she thought that this would allow her to both honor Alura and join the House of El. 

Alex gives an open _You tell me_ shrug. “I mean, I’m asking you if it’s worth doing. I feel pretty strongly about…” _Making things right_ isn’t even in the same galaxy as this. “It sounds like there might be nuances I’m missing here.” 

Kara looks up at her, then back down again. Carefully, she asks, “What do you think is going to happen?” 

Alex shrugs, sighing. “I would… take Astra’s place in her House. Your mom wants to invoke a law that was used to pardon someone who had killed a member of the family by symbolically giving the killer’s life to the family.” Kara nods slowly. Alex can’t take that as confirmation. She sighs. “Look, she said it shouldn’t prevent me from joining the House of El as well.” 

Kara huffs out what might be a laugh. “Well, that’s true, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

Kara pauses, plainly gathering her thoughts. “The way inheritance works on Krypton is… complicated.” 

“Sounded like a bunch of aristocratic… stuff.” _Bullshit_ seems a little bit too callous right now. 

Kara sighs. “When my parents married, the more prominent House took precedence over the lesser one—the House of El was the more prominent, so my mom and I took the name of the House, we wore the crest—but we both belong to the House of Inzhe, too. In case the other surviving members die. 

“The Great Houses of Krypton are descended from clans that predate the planetary government. There were differences in internal customs, laws—a lot of them depending on the region they were from. When the new government was first put into place, it almost fell apart because the Great Houses refused to give up the laws of their ancestors. They felt that the codes imposed on them privileged Kandor unfairly. 

“So the reformers had to compromise. Externally, the government put into place ran by its own set of rules—mediating the differences between the clans, forcing them all to abide by the same laws to engage in public life and get along. They even created their own language. Internally, though, the Houses were permitted to keep their own codes. Mediating between two Houses could be quite complex. My mom did that. 

“As the planetary government grew more established, ancestral law became less and less used, apart from… ceremony. Mediators became bureaucrats and Council members and lawgivers. They eventually became priests of the religion of the state, mediating between Rao and the people.” 

“This sounds familiar,” Alex says, “It doesn’t sound like it goes anywhere good.” 

Kara shakes her head. “It doesn’t.” She sighs. “What my mom wants to do is invoke one of the ancestral laws of Inzhe. Why, I have no idea. Maybe she wants to frame it as a matter of internal justice.” Kara seems to run out of steam, and her shoulders slump, head shaking again. “By right, in internal matters, or the redress of grievances, the ancestral law of the clan takes precedence. Within limits. 

“It also can’t be contradicted by the Council or the priests of Rao—and _they_ will _definitely_ have a say in any petition we make to bring you into the House of El.” 

Alex frowns. This is all very Byzantine, but she’s not sure why it has Kara so sad. “What else?” 

Kara finally looks at her. “The law is old, Alex. And Inzhe was _Thirao_ , a warrior clan. There’s… she always said that our entire history was in our laws, and she was right. You could see it. Transitions and the ephemera that supported them. 

“The law she wants to invoke is _rra-viyas shirav_. It’s not just a symbolic surrender; it _is_ an execution. I mean, I can’t imagine her making you take some of the steps that are permitted under the law, but—if I had killed someone, in a feud, or a fight, or even on accident, and I handed myself over to Inzhe and they invoked their right to _rra-viyas_ —Kara Zor-El would cease to exist.” 

Before the full weight of that can settle on Alex, Kara lets out a sharp, surprised laugh, and shakes her head again. “Of course.” She laughs, face a mask of incredulity and amusement. 

“What?” 

“You’re human, Alex. The priests of Rao, not to mention the Council themselves, would never let you be adopted as a scion of the House of El. I mean, maybe if things were different—but they aren’t. They’re a bunch of stuck-up, isolationist… politicians.” 

Alex starts to see the outline of Alura’s plan, and a chill spiders down her back. “But if I’m “dead—’” 

“As a member of the House of Inzhe, you’re Kryptonian. Alex—“ Kara leans in towards Alex again, finally. Her hand rests on Alex’s forearm. “Part of the process of joining a House is adding your blood under their entry in the Codex. The Codex is the repository of all things Kryptonian. It’s the record or the catalogue of everything that ever existed on Krypton. To be in the Codex is to _be Kryptonian_. Under normal circumstances, they would _never_ allow someone of another species to have their DNA added to it.” 

“But this would circumvent that.” 

Kara nods. “Once you’re in, you’re in; you have to commit a serious crime to warrant removal from the Codex. Being “removed from the gene pool” sounds stupid on Earth, but—it’s like… being removed from the memory of Krypton. Your DNA, your life, all you learned, how you evolved, the fact that you were ever Kryptonian at all—those things are cut out. Like they never existed. 

“But they can’t stop her from making you one of us.” 

Alex frowns. She can see an immediate problem with this strategy. “That might increase resistance to your petition, though.” 

“Oh, undoubtedly.” 

They both let out a sigh at the same time. Alex scrubs her face with her hands. “This is a bad idea.” She says after a long moment. It’s not a question. 

“Definitely.” 

“We’re doing this.” Also not a question. 

“Oh, definitely.” 

//

Next come the preparations, and the trip back to Argo City. 

The problem with “ancestral laws”, Alex thinks, is that there’s a lot of metaphors around them. Sometimes, they’re taken literally, and the consequences make you look like a goddamn moron. 

And then, there’s some of the Raoist practices. 

“I have to stand… on the Jewel of Rao.”

Kara nods looking back over her shoulder from the passenger’s seat of their… spaceship. “Yep.” 

“And testify.” 

“Yep.” 

“How big is this jewel?” 

Kara’s brow furrows. She cuts a vaguely-circular shape in the air around herself with her hands—about shoulder-width, maybe less. 

“That’s pretty big.” 

Kara laughs out loud, head tilting back, smile unfettered. It’s… odd; this side of her normally only ever comes out when she’s in private spaces with people she trusts. Which—this car, with just her and Alex and Alura, definitely counts—but it also tends to come and go in bursts. This whole trip, it’s been growing stronger and stronger steadily; her smile comes easier, less tinged with anxiety or her usual bumbling millennial cover persona. 

Also, Alura’s smiling, too. Thankfully, for the sake of Alex’s dignity, she’s only smiling slightly, and not laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Kara shakes her head and grins back at her again. “The city Kal-El was born in was named “The City of Crystal”—Kryptonopolis.” 

“Oh.” 

“Krypton was kind of famous for its crystals. You know how they have all that sophisticated AI hard-light technology at the DEO that no one but you could figure out how to use?” 

“Gee, Kara, I don’t know.” 

“It’s a computer. One of our oldest and most sophisticated computing systems is based on crystalline computing—conductive elements and insulation that can be _grown_ , either in a predetermined pattern, like how my mom’s memories in the AI are mirrored in a crystalline neural network—or as it learns.” 

Alex frowns. “What the hell do you use the Jewel of Rao for, then? To incinerate people if they lie on the stand?” 

Alura _does_ actually laugh at that. 

“Biometrics,” Kara supplies, “The crystal conducts and amplifies the bioelectric field around the body of the person in contact with it. It responds to changes in that field that correspond with emotional or mental state.” Kara slings an arm over the back of the seat to be able to look at Alex better while they talk. “If you’re stressed, it’s stressed. If you’re calm—if you’re in harmony with it—it’s beautiful.” A wistful smile touches the corners of Kara’s mouth. “There’s a form of meditation that’s dedicated to learning how to program and interact with these crystals.” 

“So it’s like a polygraph.” 

Kara nods. “A little bit.”

“There’s… demonstrable problems with polygraphs.” 

“You’re not far off, Alex,” Alura chimes in, “Crystals direct and amplify light. They’re sacred to the Raoists because they can be used to amplify the light of the sun in certain ways, and, due to their interaction with bioelectric currents, externalize the fragment of Rao in each of us, if you will.” Alex notes the use of _the Raoists_. “The Jewel of Rao is red, and it amplifies red light. To commune with it and to speak with the Council or the priests of Rao is to make oneself vulnerable. An undesirable result doesn’t mean the person is guilty of anything, and the connection can be manipulated. 

“However—to lie in the sight of Rao is a crime. More than that, it’s blasphemy. Even if you don’t get caught, you called the eye of Rao to you and you lied. Even one who isn’t a devout Raoist would feel pity for your soul.” 

“So it can’t actually catch you lying.” 

Alura shrugs. “Sometimes it can. Sometimes, it’s easy to catch a liar regardless. Sometimes, with the Eye of God on them, the most hardened among us will find themselves unable to lie.” 

Every time Alex thinks she’s convinced herself the Kryptonians are shallow and decadent, one of them has to go and say something like that. 

//

Alura—sneaky—has a much smaller version of the same type of jewel. When Alex takes it in her hand, it starts to glow a faint red from within. Then, unexpectedly, she sees that “aura” Kara was talking about; like looking at her hand through a slightly blurry window, a glimmer in the air around her fist even where her hand covers the surface of the crystal. The crystal remains entirely as cool as the glove compartment Alura took it out of. 

“Whoa.” Something about the shape catches her eye; she brings it closer. She blinks. “Kara, is this—“ 

“Yes. It’s Kryptonite.” Kara confirms, a little somber. “Or at least, what becomes Kryptonite when you subject it to the heat, pressure, and radiation of Krypton’s exploding core, the interstellar journey to Earth, and exposure to whatever strange types of radiation and conditions it might wander through on the way there.” 

“Shit.” That’s a bitter irony. 

Kara nods. 

“Traditionally,” Kara launches right into teaching Alex about the crystal after a few moments, “The brighter the light, the truer the statement.” 

“The quality of the light is important, as well,” Alura adds, “And it is difficult to achieve the desired qualities—brightness, purity, clarity, steadiness—without being in a particular emotional and mental state.” 

“Huh.” Alex has no idea how to make it do anything. It seems to blink and flash and pulse for no reason, and then settle into a steady state for a long period of time, until—it does it again. She focuses, and realizes she’s squeezing it. Focuses again, and suddenly her eyes are watery and dry from staring hard into its depths like it’s a crystal ball. It’s like those neuro-training games. 

Alex is really good at those, though. This game sucks. 

She sucks at this game. 

It’s going to be a long trip. 

//

They arrive on Argo. No one seems pleased to see them, aside from the children. No one seems displeased to see them, though, either. 

Politics. 

The sunlight is red. Alex knew that, of course, but somehow, she still wasn’t prepared for how _red_ the sunlight is. And _hot_. The robe Alura provided Alex with is sleeveless, and it leaves her arms bare, and Alex is grateful for the way the fabric—heavier than it looks, all shimmering white, with this almost-crystalline trim—somehow breathes well enough that it doesn’t add to the burden of the heat. Winn, before he left for the 31st century, said Alex looked like she was in Assassin’s Creed. Alex scowled at him, and he protested it was a compliment. 

Alex is immediately glad for the relative anonymity the robe gives her in a city full of robe-wearers—except it does stand out, her having no affiliation. She carefully clocks the crowds, the buildings—can’t be too careful. 

Alex is doing a lot better with the crystal. She has to stop every so often and remind herself to unclench, but that’s always been kind of a lost cause anyway. 

No matter how many times they’ve gone over what Alura will do (and they definitely had time to on their trip over), absolutely nothing can prepare her for the experience of being summoned bootless and sock-less (so she can have better contact with the Jewel) into the Council’s chambers, where Kara is already standing, along with the rest of the Council, and directed to stand on the Jewel of Rao. And, really, they don’t have time; maybe one evening, for Alura to convene a meeting of the Council the next day. The sooner they hit them with this and get out, the better. 

The Jewel is so smooth and polished that Alex mistakes it for glass in the floor—there’s patterns of gold and red and crystal all over it. But when her foot touches it—there’s no mistaking the cool smooth stone beneath her feet for glass. Immediately, there’s a feeling of a hum in the soles of her feet. 

The air around Alex begins to shimmer, just like with the small hand-sized crystal. But these distortions, these shimmers—they come up almost to her chin, flash and flit around her head. Like ghosts. The gold on the floor gleams, the shine of it seeming to stretch. The crystal grows luminous from within, but not spilling that red light outside the confines of its shape, yet. 

Alex looks at Kara. Kara’s chin rises, her eyes alight with approval and, Alex could almost say, pride. Alex feels her chest warm. 

Alex forces herself to look at Alura, which is like a bucket of cold water, and Alura has no real comfort to offer Alex beyond her strenuous reassurances that she doesn’t want Alex to fail. 

It’s not that Alex doesn’t believe them. She just knows that for all her reassurances, she’s only a part of Alura’s plan. 

But that’s fine. She knows how to do this. 

_Breathe._

The air around Alura’s face is steady, but occasionally, a shimmer will flit across Alex’s vision, thin and ripple the shape of Alura’s face. And Alex, Alex will see ghosts. 

The tones of Alura’s voice are so different from Astra’s, Alex thinks, as Alura begins this part of the trial. And yet, not different at all. 

_”I come before this Council as Alura-Inzhe,”_ Alura begins, _”Dzurakhvao of Inzhe, putting aside my duties as the Great Scion of the House of El._

_”The House of Inzhe calls this Council to witness a matter of clan law. The blood of our House has been spilled.”_

//

“There was a time in Krypton’s history where bloodshed could only be redressed with bloodshed,” Alura begins, “A life for a life. 

“The Red Book of Urrik tells us that our ancestors believed that the souls of the wronged dead could not rest while their murderers still lived. This, we are told, wasted generations, in feuds that could not be ended, strife that tore apart families and cities, and all driven by the restless, blood-hungry memory of our dead.” 

The ghosts around Alex flutter and flash. Out of the corners of her eyes, she sees—faces? She fights not to look down, knowing if she does, she’ll find dark rust-brown caked into every line of her palm, smeared streaks across the back. 

“Until the great adjudicator, Ral-Ven, put an end to a conflict that would have destroyed the city of Urrik by giving this judgment: 

“The killer would join the House of their victim, forfeiting their life, surrendering their previous ties, and assuming those of the one they killed. Not an execution; not a sacrifice; not an exchange, or a replacement; and yet, all of these.” 

Alex keeps her eyes trained on Kara, who stares back unflinchingly, but grows increasingly tense, especially when the phrase “forfeiting their life” passed Alura’s lips. The glass grows foggy, halos developing around objects, brightening and sharpening and then dimming and dulling in a rhythm with her heartbeat. 

“Some might argue that the tales of the Book of Urrik are a legend, a child’s version of our history; that this story is from the childhood of our civilization. That may be so. But we do know that the oldest Houses whose origins can be traced to that mythical city still remember a time when such an exchange might be made. Inzhe, The House of my birth, is one such House. 

“And among all our values, it is the _utaorod_ of Argo and the _urkynod_ of Kandor that are said to balance the scales of all Kryptonian thought. 

“Before this Council stands my sister’s killer.” 

Alex sees Kara’s jaw clench at that, as murmurs spread through the room. If she weren’t in freefall mentally, through a whirlwind of memories she’d locked up and thrown away the key to, she’d try to be reassuring for Kara. As it is, though—

 _”I’ll give you a good death, Martian.”_

_Alex had heartbeats, maybe less, before J’onn was dead. Drawing her sword wasn’t a choice; it was already done._

“While the Council will remember that my sister was sentenced to imprisonment in Fort Rozz for her crimes, I would remind them that the priests of Rao pardoned the crimes of the surviving Kryptonian people as a whole.” 

_”I was getting through to her, Alex, I was so close. If I’d just had a little more time.”_

_”Astra. Your heart isn’t in this war.”_

“The circumstances of my sister’s death were complicated, and the Council is implicated in the events that set Astra on the path that led to her death. And while the human before us took Astra’s life, she also took in my daughter, Kara, and protected her on Earth. My House has no quarrel with her.” 

_”Without me, you’re nothing. And you can’t stand it. That’s why you killed my aunt.”_

“But as Ral-Ven recognized in his judgment all those generations ago, it is not enough. Sometimes, there is no easy answer to our loss. We cannot always afford vengeance, and sometimes, the vengeance of the law is not what either one desires. Nonetheless, some losses demand an answer. Beyond questions of remuneration or the _value_ of a child or sibling or spouse. A light has gone out of the world.”

__There are other questions; questions about the details of Astra’s death, things that Kara didn’t know, because she hadn’t been there to see them. The air around her gleams, her hands are haloed, the surfaces are all white and gold. She looks at Alura, because she doesn’t dare look at Kara._ _

_But when she looks at Alura, asking her questions, she sees Astra, smirking. Usually, she asks the same questions Alura’s asking. But sometimes she deviates._

___Why did you kill me?_ _ _

___Because you were going to kill a man who’s been like a father to me._ _ _

___And why was I going to kill him?_ _ _

___Because he was trying to save me from you._ _ _

___What did I say?_ _ _

___”I’ll give you a good death, Martian.”_ _ _

___What were we doing when he intervened to_ save you?_ _

___Talking. I told you your heart wasn’t in this war. I told you Kara needed you. That she believed in you._ _ _

___What do you want to say to me now?_ _ _

___Fuck you and your twitchy goddamn trigger finger._ _ _

_____What do you want to say to me now?_ _ _ _ _

_____She believed in you. Why did you let her down?_ _ _ _ _

_____What did you kill me with?_ _ _ _ _

_____A sword made of Kryptonite._ _ _ _ _

_____And how’d you take care of my niece, hm?_ _ _ _ _

____Finally, after what seems like years, Alura stops. Alex comes to, air hazy, mind hazy. Red light from the floor floods the room._ _ _ _

____“Alex Danvers of Earth has surrendered herself to the judgment of Astra’s House— _my_ House—for her actions, and this House chooses to exercise its ancestral right to _rra-viyas shirav_.” The murmurs around the room turn into a buzz. Alex stays at the center of it, eyes locked with Kara’s. _ _ _ _

____“In the light of Rao, Astra’s killer is no more. Alex Danvers is no more. And the House of Inzhe has a new daughter.” Alura’s voice lightens slightly at the end of her statement._ _ _ _

____Alex isn’t sure which is worse: The building angry buzz from the moments before, anticipating Alura’s pronouncement, or the dead-shocked silence that falls when Alura actually _goes there_. _ _ _ _

____//_ _ _ _

____After what feels like hours of Kryptonian oaths comes what feels like a days-long process of bureaucratic form-filling and biometric-data-gathering._ _ _ _

____For a dead woman, Alex muses, she still feels awfully sweaty._ _ _ _

____Supposedly, this whole process won’t put her out much after dusk, if that, but Alex is _tired_. She’s exhausted from the public speaking in a language she hasn’t really spoken since her and Kara were misbehaving teens trying to talk about boys or what new fight Alex got in at school without Eliza or Jeremiah overhearing. She’s exhausted having a dozen of Krypton’s once-highest houses stare at her in judgment. She doesn’t know what policy changes Alura wanted use her to make, in addition to simply wanting to honor Astra without disrespecting Kara’s wishes and vice versa, but Alex will worry about those later, after she’s slept. And if anything, Alura’s performance today, as genuinely emotional as it was, has Alex convinced that Alura’s been planning this since Kara first told her that Alex existed. _ _ _ _

____Kara, on the other hand, looks like she _belongs_. _ _ _ _

____Kara stays with Alex throughout the process, as does Alura, and Alex feels like a very weird, kinda short, odd woman out. The two members of the House of El on either side of her are tall, and composed, and regal. They have a demeanor which, depressingly, Alex can only relate to somewhere between “elves” (she will never forgive Kara for making her sit through the extended editions of all the Lord of the Rings movies with Winn) and Vulcans. Alex is a good three inches shorter than Kara on a good day, and Alura is taller than both of them. Alex’s robe feels heavy, she feels sweat dried onto her skin, and feels like a kid playing dress-up, wearing this robe; Alura and Kara move like they were born wearing clothes like this, which is probably definitely not far from the truth._ _ _ _

____Kara is present, but she doesn’t stay too close to Alex. Alex can’t help but notice it. That’s alright, part of her figures, the part of her that’s still walking around, still functioning. She doesn’t really want to be near herself, either._ _ _ _

____Meanwhile, Alura maintains a detached-yet-present demeanor._ _ _ _

____The end result is that even though Alura explained every step of this process, Alex still has no idea what’s going on._ _ _ _

____On the bright side, Alex has absolutely no doubt that all the i’s have been dotted and the t’s crossed by the time she’s done. Metaphorically speaking._ _ _ _

____It becomes real when she hands over the robe that Alura gave her that morning—that white on white one—and stands there in, essentially, BDUs and a tank top, plus her boots. She doesn’t think anything of it, at first—she’s going to swap it out for something in the House’s colors, she knows._ _ _ _

____But when a bundle of fabric is handed back to her, this one white with what looks like black and red trim, and a crystal neatly placed on top of it, Alex blinks. She takes it. The fabric is heavy under her hands. Unexpectedly, she feels naked, with the impassive eyes of the aide on her, and Alura’s gaze, and Kara’s expectant one._ _ _ _

____“You can put it on here, if you’d like.” Alura says quietly._ _ _ _

____Carefully, Alex slips the crystal—meant to be plugged into some projector or other, although she hears rumors that they’re working on a more portable interface—into the pocket of her pants. She unfolds the robe._ _ _ _

____It looks a lot like the one she wore this morning—long, sleeveless again, fairly close-fitted, in the style of most of the military uniforms, reflecting Inzhe’s history as a Warrior house ( _Alura_ being the black sheep of the family? Was not something Alex would have guessed). _ _ _ _

____And there it is. The circular-ish symbol of House Inzhe, in raised black and red stitching over the heart._ _ _ _

____Huh. They got the location of the heart anatomically correct for a human, not a Kryptonian. Alura has definitely been planning this._ _ _ _

____It’s… a relief? To reach this part of the process? She’s spent most of the afternoon in a limbo of sorts, legally ceasing to exist while also still definitely existing and definitely moving _towards_ existing, just under another name. It doesn’t really register to her until she sees it—it’s not just _her sacrifice_ , or her confession of her guilt. This—the robe, the crystal, the name—is something extended back in return. Like when Kara _didn’t_ turn her away after she learned the truth; but also, something bigger than that. It’s not a transaction or a debt settled, but it _is_ a negotiation. The opening of one. Alex has spent so much of her life feeling like things were falling apart—the life she might’ve had, her family, her relationship with Maggie—she’s shocked by the feeling of something coming _together_ under her hands. _ _ _ _

____And of course, all this drama is completely nonexistent, utterly irrelevant, to Alex Danvers on Earth. She’ll come back with a new coat—two, if everything goes according to plan—and a bit of alien tech that she’ll have to hide from her superiors. But Alex Danvers? That’s all Alex-on-Earth _can_ be. _ _ _ _

____But maybe that’s the point, Alex thinks. Alex-on-Earth made the decision to come here, light-years away, to face down a guilt she’d been trying to pretend she wasn’t still carrying around with her. Earth didn’t care. She’d done her duty; she’d killed an alien, someone who didn’t exist, who _couldn’t_ exist, who couldn’t _be_ a person, or someone who mattered. Who couldn’t have attachments, or a family, or anyone who’d miss her. She’d been fighting a war that couldn’t be acknowledged as such, for many reasons, but not least because half the combatants were hardly more than animals, as far as Alex’s side was concerned. She’d done her job. Past that, Earth didn’t care. _ _ _ _

____Alex did._ _ _ _

____For Alex, she’d gone to war long before that, something that had no beginning, and couldn’t have an ending. And maybe neat things like beginnings and endings are lies. They are for her. General Lane, with his stars and his military tradition, no matter how much he might try to advance his authority beyond its bounds—he still _has_ bounds to overstep. He has a beginning and an ending. And Lucy, too. The ability to find the beginning and the end of these things means something. _ _ _ _

____She’s not sure how this all fits together—the oath she took—to protect the interests of the House, to guard its secrets, to preserve its legacy—the family she supposedly is going to have someday; her position at the DEO; all the images of her life, how it could be. She doesn’t know how to put them all together. She never did. She might always be a bundle of ghosts._ _ _ _

____But maybe this is one she can put to rest. Someday._ _ _ _

____She slides the robe (okay, that’s the name for it in Kryptonian, but really, it’s a coat) over her shoulders, and tries not to look at herself too hard just yet. The coat is comfortable, at least. She feels the stitching, though, the way it weights the fabric over her heart. She feels the questions, from earlier, her answers. Even if Alura could legally dismiss them all with a word, Alex knows—these things; they linger._ _ _ _

____And Kara’s there. Kara’s been there for—not all of it, but everything that’s changed in her life since Kara arrived. Kara just listened to Alex speak for however long in truths that Alex never, ever wanted to fall on Kara’s ears. Kara’s barely been able to look at her since they got out._ _ _ _

____Kara’s currently tearing up looking at Alex in her new… robe._ _ _ _

____“One more thing.” Alura leads Alex over to some kind of crystal bank. She directs Alex to put her thumb on a pad. “This will sting.”_ _ _ _

____Alex has about two seconds to get nervous before she feels a prick in her thumb. Not enough to make her flinch away, but still._ _ _ _

____“I didn’t think you’d be so low-tech about getting a blood sample.” Alex manages. Alura seems genuinely amused by that._ _ _ _

____“Blood is significant to Kryptonians.” She replies. “And now yours has been added to the Codex, under the House of Inzhe.” _Our house_ , Alex hears, but she’s learned very quickly that Alura is mindful of who’s watching, and they’re not alone. For the exact time it took to invoke _rra-viyas_ , Alura had very carefully declared her position as _dzurakhvao_ , the highest-ranked living scion of the House of Inzhe, putting Alura of El aside. _ _ _ _

____And then she put Alura of Inzhe back wherever it was she kept her._ _ _ _

____“I think we should let it work.” Alura brings their afternoon to a conclusion. “It will, as Winn says, have a bit of an aneurysm. But yours wouldn’t be the first alien DNA added to it.”_ _ _ _

____Alura turns to Alex, and Alex catches a glimpse of Kara’s face, shocked to hear her mother make a joke. Alex’s facial expressions aren’t working, but she thinks she feels the same way. “Welcome home, sister.”_ _ _ _

____//_ _ _ _

____“So am I your aunt or your cousin?” Alex asks Kara when they’re back at their shared quarters. Kara frowns at her in confusion. “Since your mom called me “sister.’”_ _ _ _

____Kara waves her question away. “ _Etvazhe_ is just a female family member.” _ _ _ _

____Alex sits with that for a moment. She wonders—again—if Alura wanted to find a way to reinstate Astra, as it were, in their society. Alex can’t imagine Astra ever coming around to the idea, but people have done plenty of things “in the name of” loved ones more out of touch with who their loved ones were, in her experience._ _ _ _

____Alex fiddles with the trim on her new coat. For all that it’s hot and humid—even now that the sun’s gone down—and the coat itself is fairly heavy, the coat hasn’t really added to the sense of heat._ _ _ _

____“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Alex doesn’t intend to say it, but out it comes._ _ _ _

____Kara freezes, body language going stiff. “I’d rather have seen it than not.” She says finally._ _ _ _

____“You holding up okay?” Alex asks Kara. Today ripped off more than one Band-Aid for Alex. She can’t imagine what Kara’s going through. She also knows she might be the last person Kara wants comfort from._ _ _ _

____It wasn’t until Alex had her blood added to the Codex earlier that it started to sink in what Kara meant when she said she wanted to acknowledge the impact that Alex had on _her_ life. Like an echo, the back-and-forth pattern of waves in water or light or sound. Kara made them on Earth, her presence rippling through Alex’s life, Alex’s family’s life, the lives of the DEO agents and everyone who had to deal with the Fort Rozz escapees—and finally, as Supergirl; she brought Alex here to echo them. To amplify them, even. _ _ _ _

____Alex thinks about her testimony, earlier. Wonders if Alex’s echoes are what Kara wants, or what Kara seems to think they are. Kara wanted to make Alex part of her family; it seems simple enough. Instead, Alex dragged Kara through one of the worst traumas anyone could experience all over again. Kara brought Alex here because she loves her so much she apparently wants to put Alex’s name up in the sky._ _ _ _

____It hurts to think about. Kara keeps wanting to give her good things, and Alex keeps throwing them back in her face._ _ _ _

____Kara pauses, half-turned away. She turns her face all the way away for a few moments. Then she sighs. “I thought I would be mad at my mom. I _was_ mad at my mom. I couldn’t understand why she’d want to—and bringing you here for that? It felt like a trial. I’ve _never_ heard of _rra-viyas_ being invoked in an actual history text less than a thousand years ago.” She seems agitated. Alex lets her continue without interruption, feeling strangely small, like an impostor, like her big heavy Kryptonian robe doesn’t quite fit right, and she wasn’t meant to wear it. _ _ _ _

____Kara falls silent for a long moment. Then— “My mom was wise, doing what she did.” Kara says quietly. She glances over at Alex, then looks away. “I couldn’t square it, what you did, how I feel about you. So I just… locked it up, like I always do. I couldn’t… forgive you, or face what that moment meant, losing her, knowing you were the reason. And then my mom just…“ Kara waves one hand vaguely in the air in front of her. “You can’t explain it all away, the feelings. But she made them fit.” Kara’s voice is strong, but Alex can hear the beginnings of tears in it. “You were wise, too.” She moves one hand toward Alex in a gesture that Alex thinks she recognizes. Alex reaches out and takes Kara’s hand, threading her fingers through Kara’s. “Thank you for doing it.”_ _ _ _

____“I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me “wise.’” Alex cracks after a moment. Kara lets out a watery puff of laughter._ _ _ _

____Kara looks back at her, and Alex can see all of it; the conflict, the hurt, the shame, the anger, the pain of it. “I can’t lose you, Alex. But I can’t have you unless I find some way to deal with this. Today… I didn’t realize this was something I need. But I do.”_ _ _ _

____“Kara.” Alex says, and then abruptly finds herself speechless. Somehow, she managed to do something right. Maybe, just maybe. “I love you.” She finishes lamely._ _ _ _

____Kara offers Alex a bleary smile. “I love you, too.”_ _ _ _

____“I never wanted to hurt you. Or…” Alex can’t finish that sentence._ _ _ _

____“I know.” Kara says, voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what makes it so horrible.”_ _ _ _

____Alex starts to drop Kara’s hand, to let Kara have her privacy. But Kara tightens her grip, so Alex stays put._ _ _ _

____“Do you want to hold off on tomorrow?” Alex asks; tomorrow is when Kara (they’ve decided) will petition the Council to adopt Alex into the House of El. It’s a moment of indulging her fears, but also—she tells herself—because if they do need to hold off, or cancel… the last thing Alex wants is to trample over the memory of Kara’s family somehow. “Wait longer? If you want time—”_ _ _ _

____Kara shoots her a sharp look. “No. Alex, you’ve always been my family. You didn’t stop being it then and you won’t stop being it now.”_ _ _ _

____Alex nods, and this sense of unreality settles around her like a fog. She isn’t sure why she’s here. Not because she’s not happy to be here, but because—it doesn’t make sense. Why Kara pulls her closer instead of pushing her away. Why Kara _fights_ —herself, the universe, Kryptonian and Earth society and legality—for _Alex_. As cool as being officially “of Krypton” has been, and as important as acknowledging her actions feels—Alex still doesn’t want anything she does here to hurt Kara. Or keep her from joining Kara’s… family. _ _ _ _

____And that moment, where Alex senses the nearness of some kind of precipice that will take everything she wants away from her, is when Alex realizes she really does want this._ _ _ _

____//_ _ _ _

____If they were to make a list of “Top Five Ways to Get Your High Council Petition Disqualified”, they would’ve probably checked off at least three boxes by now. At least Kara hasn’t hit “murder” or “attempted murder”. Yet._ _ _ _

____Alura did what she could—prepared Kara for the uncomfortable questions, and try to ask them before anyone else could. Kara, for her part, looked every inch the alien noble that Alex had mocked a few nights ago (“rich kid”). Then, the Councilors and the presiding priests of Rao take their turns, some trying more obviously than others to trip Kara up._ _ _ _

____The ones that are trying zero in on a few things: Kara & Alex’s rocky relationship when Kara first arrived; Kara’s lack of knowledge about Kryptonian culture and the fact that she never passed the “trials” that all Kryptonian children should have gone through. Given that Kara was twelve and those trials didn’t usually happen until around fifteen, Alex has been white-knuckling her hands into fists and making a conscious effort _not_ to knock any of them out. _ _ _ _

____They zero in on the fact that Alex killed Astra._ _ _ _

____Never mind that that Alex is “dead” (because if she’s dead, then where’s your reason to adopt her?); never mind that Kara and Alex are here, _now_ , _asking_. Confirming just by choosing to come before them that this is how they feel, this is what they want. _ _ _ _

____They’ve already had her stumbling over her words once, although she recovered better than most anyone would from that situation, under that amount of pressure._ _ _ _

____After the eighth iteration of “Do you really like this person after watching them talk in detail about hurting your ~Real Family~”, Kara snaps._ _ _ _

____“ _Enough._ ” Kara’s eyes blaze. “ _You_ and _your people_ let a religious fanatic find her way to Earth and attempt to _terraform_ it. Seven _billion_ people live on it, and you think your wasted hunk of rock and dirt is more holy than an entire living _planet_ and one of you, _one_ of you, is worth the millions upon _millions_ who would’ve died?” _ _ _ _

____“Kara—“_ _ _ _

____“ _No_. You did _nothing_. You refused to aid us when we petitioned you for help. You refused to act when you were presented with _evidence_ that Krypton was dying. You had the answer, you had the power, you were _responsible_ , and you did _nothing_. _ _ _ _

____“Reign was _our monster_. And the best idea any of you had was “oh, gee, that planet would be a _great place to turn into a new Krypton_.” _ _ _ _

____“This is _exactly_ why Astra was radicalized. Because unlike you, her life and her station were less important than the lives of her people. It’s just a shame Non was the same as the rest of you. _ _ _ _

____“You want to know why I would rather tie my fate to someone you see as hopelessly alien?_ _ _ _

____“Alex traveled here, to the same place that that _fanatic_ who just tried to kill her world came from, because she felt like it was necessary to acknowledge the truth of what she did. She wanted to make it right with Astra’s family and give them a chance to mourn. _ _ _ _

____“You keep implying that somehow Alex kept me from becoming who I should have been. That she was jealous, and she kept me from my full potential. You don’t listen when I tell you that she is the only reason I’ve ever come close to being what I was meant to be._ _ _ _

____“Alex has hurt me. I have scars from it. But she is _infinitely_ better than you’ll ever be. I dare you to volunteer for something like _rra-viyas_ , on a planet you’ve never been to, when you can’t even do the job you were appointed for and guide your people.” _ _ _ _

____Kara seems to realize they’ve stopped talking and started listening, and pauses, taking in what’s going on._ _ _ _

____The priests of Rao have frozen in place, staring._ _ _ _

____The air around Kara _glows_. Light emanates out of what seems like midair. No smudging or blurriness. The air itself is bright. _ _ _ _

____Dead silence falls over the whole Council chamber._ _ _ _

____Alex bites her lip. Clarity, brightness, purity—_ _ _ _

____Steadiness._ _ _ _

____//_ _ _ _

____This time, Alex is wearing robes in indigo and gold._ _ _ _

____She places her thumb on the pad (her good thumb, damn blood draws) and watches as it processes her DNA strucure._ _ _ _

____Kara gives her an impish smile. She shoots a look at Alura, who makes _Go on_ motions, and Kara says, “Alex Danvers of the House of El.” The smile turns into a grin. _ _ _ _

____“Welcome home, sister.”_ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

>  **Recap:**
> 
> Kryptonian High Council: [*is smarmily passive-aggressive*]
> 
> Kara: [*comes for their goddamn lives*]
> 
> Kryptonian High Council: *meep.*
> 
>  **Lexicon:**
> 
> **Girod:** “Virtues”. A set of eleven “virtues” adopted by Krypton’s planetary government under Val-Zho’s reforms. 
> 
> **Utaorod:** “Justice”. Based on “tahrao” (“Justice”), one of the girod listed on kryptonian.info. Associated with Argo City (one of the great cities of Krypton; each girod is matched with a city). For extra (maybe too much extra) background, Argo traces its origins to a mythical city, Urrik, home of a mythical lawgiver, Ral-Ven. 
> 
> Unlike its more canon counterpart, “Utaorod” has a stronger flavor of “judgment” than what you might associate with “justice”. Given that Argo is known primarily for its mythical lawgiver, hopefully that makes sense. But also, hints of “discernment”, “execution” (in the sense of judgments being carried out, not actual executions), and … rule of law? 
> 
> Notes from a chat I had about this fic: “[Utaorod] embodies the counterpoint to [Kandor’s “urkynod”]: practical satisfaction of the basic requirements, e.g., their answer to the superstition of "ghosts want death" is to legally “kill” the responsible individual and also give another life to the House that had lost a member”--where “urkynod” would eschew the idea that ghosts are a thing, and instead urge adherence to ideals like: The rule of law, forebearance, justice, reconciliation, etc. “Utaorod” is somewhere between religion, reparation, and hacking society and psychology to Move Things Forward in service of higher aspirations or a “greater good” (probably another one of the girod), bound as they are by customs, How People Are, and old laws and practices that have to be accounted for and not simply turned away from. 
> 
> **Urkynod:** Based on “urkynon” (“Altruism”), one of the girod listed on kryptonian.info. 
> 
> In this instance, the word refers less to “altruism” in the pure sense and more a combination of “the scientific method”, “intellectual rigor”, and “faith in logic”. Because I feel like looking into the face of a world that is assumed to be self-willed and going “No, there’s a scientific reason for that, this is an explainable phenomenon” is kind of an act of faith. Alternately, “the stubbornness of aspiration”. Associated with Kandor, another of the great cities of Krypton, because of course. 
> 
> **Rra-viyas shirav:** Old enough to be folklore. Not a practical legal strategy. But, the old Houses were allowed to maintain some of their old traditions, and this is one of them. Loosely, it has a meaning similar to “weregild”, but not exactly the same. Strictly, it means something like “to take--” (or claim) “--a life”. 
> 
> Also just “rra-viyas” (lit. “it is taken”). Everyone (mostly the rich kids) will know what you’re talking about and either be impressed by how metal you are, or laugh at you like “Look at this nerd”. 
> 
> **Thirao:** “Warrior”, in the sense of “warrior caste”. This became the Military Guild, but some Houses have a tradition that actually predates the institution of the Guild. 
> 
> **Dzurakhvao:** Lit. “firstborn”; formally, it refers to the primary, oldest, and/or highest-ranking scion of a House. 
> 
> **Etvazhe:** “Sister”, among a couple of other things. For the purposes of this, “sister” is the only one you really need to be aware of going into this. 
> 
> **Talashiv:** Alex’s fancy new coat with her House’s crest and colors on them. Technically it’s a “robe”. Alex objects to this on the grounds that it’s too nifty. It’s a vaguely ceremonial or formal garment.


End file.
